Life Is A Dance Floor, Love Is The Rhythm
by Avila Grace
Summary: A series of oneshot song fics, taken from my JAM playlist. More details in chapter one. Songs located on profile page.
1. Introduction

A/N: This story will be a series of one-shot song fics. I have a JAM playlist on my iPod that reminds me of Jim or Pam or their relationship or any and all of the above. I'll write a songfic for each of them, and since the playlist keeps growing, it probably will never be completed, haha. Also, the chapters aren't in any sort of order, other than the order I heard the song and wrote about it. If you have any songs that remind you of Jam that you want me to write a story on, let me know, I'll add them to my playlist and get around to it.

Also, please review. It really makes my day and helps me write.

Warnings: I have no idea what kind of things will be in these fics. They might be fluff, romance, angst, future, whatever. Whatever it is, they'll be depth. I hate stories that have no depth behind them, so hopefully, these songs will lead me to write stories with emotions and tears of laughter and joy. Thanks for reading!


	2. All These Things

_A/N: This is a __songfic__written on Jim's way home from the corporate interview in The Job.__ He'll make a stop at the office in between._

_Set to Stephen Speaks "All These Things". I recommend listening to it on repeat while reading, or just listening. He's amazing!!!!_

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Jim sat in the front seat, his mind focused on what he'd just done. He'd spoken to Karen, told her all about how he had left the job in corporate. How he had got up during the middle of his interview and said, "I'm sorry, but I'm not going to do this. My life is in Scranton." The interviewer had thought he meant his house, his parents, various other parts of his day to day life… He hadn't realized Jim meant **his life** His life being one girl. One girl made everything else fade away. One girl made him forget everything around him. One girl captivated his attention and made him feel like he could fly, even when he fell. The one girl who was his best friend, even when they didn't speak for months. Even when they were dating other people, ignoring the love they had for each other. It had always been her. He had always wanted her. And then a few days ago she'd spilled her soul to him in front of everyone. She'd told him that he was the reason she'd broken off her engagement; he was the reason she was strong and assertive; she missed him. She missed his friendship. That's what she had said, and it had broken his heart. He knew he'd messed up. And yet today, as he'd opened up his quarterly numbers and found a message from her with a gold medal stapled to it from years ago, he'd remembered the friendship he was leaving behind. He remembered why she had become his life in the first place.

_Maybe it's her face, no makeup at __all  
__As she tells me she's not beautiful_

As he drove down the streets of Pennsylvania, the words to the song playing on the radio seemed to echo in his heart. He could hear the vibrations within him, he could feel the words engulf him as he thought of her. He thought of the time they'd played Who Would You Do? after Ryan nearly burned the office down. He thought of how hurt she'd been by Roy's acknowledgement that he'd rather do Angela. He'd gone home that night vowing to try to cheer her up. He'd sat as his computer and carefully picked songs for her and put them on a mix CD for her. He'd realized after he'd burned it that he'd forgotten his bag at work. He'd driven back to work, late at night, and walked into the office to find her staring at her computer, wide awake and obviously teary-eyed. He'd walked over to her, crouched beside her, and said her name loudly and firmly. She'd spilled her soul then. She'd told him how she didn't feel beautiful when Roy was with her. She'd told him how she felt bland and unattractive. How she didn't even know what beautiful could look like. He'd pulled her into his arms and reassured her that she was, in fact, very beautiful. She hadn't heard much of what he said, but in his mind, he'd told her countless times how beautiful and exquisite she was. He loved to sneak quick looks over to reception to stare at her. He loved the way she looked. The way she didn't try to change who she was, even a little, even by putting on foundation or lip gloss. She was always herself. Pure and beautiful.

_Maybe it's her hair, soft __golden__ and wind blown  
__As we drive through the streets of town_

He thought of all the times they'd gone on field trips with the office. When they'd gone to the store to buy things for Kevin when they thought he might have skin cancer; when they'd gone out to lunch; when she'd gotten a flat tire and he'd had to drive hours to pick her up because Roy was busy having poker night. He thought of how carefree she was when they rode together. How, no matter what temperature it was outside, she always wanted the windows down. She could be freezing, but she still wanted the windows down as they drove. She loved the breeze. He loved it too; he loved that when they rode together and a breeze hit her, she threw her head back and let it carry. He loved watching the sun sparkle off each strand. He loved feeling it after they'd gone driving, even if it was just accidental. He loved pretending like he was reaching for something else when really he just wanted to touch her hair, to feel the softness on his skin. He just wanted to touch something golden.

_It could be all these things  
__But__ I think it's her smile_

Jim thought about her hair, her face, her eyes. All of the parts of her soul that captured him so fully. He could stare into her eyes and know every inch of her soul. She was the kind of girl that wore her heart on her sleeve. She was completely open, which many times had hurt her, but he thought it was a great strength when she stared into the eyes of a man who truly loved her. Him. He could see everything inside of her soul when she stared into his eyes. He could see how she ached to be loved, how she desired to be beautiful, and how she wanted to be desperately needed by another person. But his favorite thing about her was not just her eyes. Her eyes were expressive and beautiful, but they matched her mouth in such a way he could hardly take it in. When she smiled, which was rare but extremely pleasant, she didn't just smile with her lips or her teeth. Her whole body seemed to smile when she truly smiled. Her arms and feet relaxed, her eyes came alive and he could see beauty within them, her lips curled to show her beautiful teeth. When she smiled, Jim felt as if he knew her. Knew her so completely he could take her into his arms and nobody would be able to tell where he ended and she began.

_Maybe it's her laugh when she throws back and sighs  
__Or__ her eyebrows when I do something stupid_

He pictured her face in his mind. The lines on her face that had only gotten more numerous since he'd started working at Dunder-Mifflin. He thought about those eyes. How she reacted when they played pranks together in the office. He thought about how she giggled and nearly ruined the jokes sometimes. How other times, she covered her mouth with her hands and laughed with her eyes. He remembered when he'd accidentally put his own stapler in jello, thinking it was Dwight's. He remembered how she'd looked at him. It hadn't been a look of disgust, or even a look that paralyzed him in his stupidity. It had been a slightly raised eyebrow, pursed lips, and shining eyes. It clearly said that he had done something stupid, but it hinted more toward how it was silly and cute. She had smiled at him then, and the whole world had seemed to melt away. When he'd gotten up to go to the bathroom and came back, she'd spooned the stapler out of the jello and left a note on his desk that said, "Good try. Maybe next time you'll know how to spell your name."

_Maybe it's her smell, the lotion she wears  
__Or__ how my hands smell like country pear for days_

He remembered all of the times he'd gotten close to her and smelled her hair. He wasn't sure what kind of shampoo she wore, but he knew he liked it. It smelled like a mixture of something, coconut and lime, maybe. Whatever it was, it took his breath away. And he loved how when he touched her, she was so soft. It wasn't even when they held hands, it was those moments when their fingers accidentally touched, or when they danced together. Her hands were always so soft, and he had no idea how she kept them that way when she typed 90 words a minute and worked for 43,200 minutes a day. He'd never seen her put on lotion, but he knew she did. Whenever he walked by reception after lunch, she somehow smelled like country pear, mixed in with the coconut and lime. He liked that smell. He liked how when he touched her, it seemed as if he contracted the smell. He loved going home the nights after he did touch her, when her hands had smelled like country pear, and her hair had smelled like coconut and lime, and he loved to lay down in bed and smell his own hands. The scents of her seemed to radiate off of himself and he could sleep peacefully, surrounded by her smell, maybe even convincing himself that she was right there next to him. Sometimes, Karen would be there. Sleeping next to him, but he never really knew it was her. Karen's smell was more rough. It was almost as if she'd bought cigar scented lotion. Pam's smell, even the memories from earlier that day, seemed to overtake Karen's. Sometimes, while he and Karen were making love, he imagined Pam. He imagined how her soft hands would feel on his skin; how she would react when he slid inside of her; how much he would enjoy her because she was Pam, not because she was his girlfriend, and not because he was supposed to. Because he did.

_You know it could be all these things  
__But I think mostly it is her smile_

He remembered her words the other night at the beach. He had been sitting there when she had run up, cut Michael off, and proceeded to tell everyone exactly what was on her mind. He had thought it was adorable, how assertive and straight-forward he was being. He loved this new Pam. And then she turned to him, and her words cut him like a knife. They dug inside of hi and cut him in the one place that had brick walls built all around it. The one place only she could penetrate. "Jim, I called off my wedding because of you, and now we're not even friends." Those words had burned inside of him. If only he had stayed and waited for her, things might have been different. But he had to go, he knew that. At the time, his only reason was to get away from her, to get away from the life he wanted but couldn't have. Looking back, he was somewhat glad he had gone away. It had given her the chance to make things right for herself, to become the strong, assertive woman he had wanted her to become, the one that had stared him in the face in her blue zip up sweatshirt, pink shirt, and jeans, with feet scorched from hot coals. He knew that was the Pam he wanted. He loved the other one, but this was a Pam without limits. A Pam that didn't need a man to feel complete; a Pam that understood how vulnerable she had been and how horrible that was; a Pam that understood if you wanted something, you had to go for it; a Pam that inspired him to go for what he wanted. "Things are weird between us, and that sucks. I miss you. You were my best friend before I went to Stamford, and I really miss you." He had known this. She hadn't ever explicitly told them, but after enough times of hugs in the elevator, smiles across the room, and emails saying 'my life is in shambles, what do I do?' or making fun of Michael, he had figured it out. He was her best friend; he knew that. She missed him; he knew that, too. She had made that obvious his first day back when she had jumped into his arms. What she didn't know was that she was his best friend. She trumped over any other friend he ever had before, had presently, or would ever have again. She would always be his best friend. He would always go to her if something went wrong. He knew that. When he came back from Samford and looked in her face, he knew what a fool he'd been. He knew how much he had missed her. All of those long nights where he chalked it up to insomnia or Karen snoring beside him, he had really been thinking of her. Wishing she was the one snoring beside him. Wishing he hadn't left her. He thought he could never forgive himself for leaving her. "I shouldn't have been with Roy; there were a lot of reasons to call off my wedding. But the truth is, I didn't care about any of those reasons until I met you." He couldn't believe this strong, assertive woman she'd become. He couldn't believe that she had just announced her love for him in front of all her coworkers. That she had just taken a stand for what she wanted. He had always known she shouldn't be with Roy. He had always known that. Every time Roy had grabbed her arm, yelled at her, or dragged her somewhere with him, he had wanted to scream this at Pam. Every time Roy had gawked at another woman, made raunchy jokes in Pam's presence, or talked about their sex life without her permission, Jim had wanted to scream this at Pam. He wasn't right for her. He didn't treat her the way she should be treated. Pam didn't realize that. She thought that's what she deserved. He had broken her down so far, ripped apart all of her self-dignity that eventually, she just started to believe him. It was easier than fighting against what he had been telling her for ten years. To hear her acknowledge that Roy was wrong, well, it made Jim's heart leap. And then to hear that he had been the cause, that the reason she had called off her wedding was because of him. That he had been the reason she cared so much, that made him happy. He wouldn't show her that he was happy, but it did make him happy. He had changed her. And not in one of those scary horror movie ways. He had changed her in good ways. She had become more strong-willed; she'd had more self-determination, and for once in her life, she believed in herself enough to say what she wanted to say. To say it in front of the TV cameras, the people in the office, and America. To put herself out there and wait, not even for a response, but for herself to feel lighter. "Now you're with someone else, and that's fine." He had patiently listened to every word of what she said. He had tried to push back the feelings of wanting to jump up and kiss her, to tell her he was sorry and take her into his arms and hold her tight. And then she threw in Karen, and it was as if he remembered. He couldn't do that. He was with Karen. That's why he wasn't with Pam. He was with Karen. "I miss having fun with you." She had said it. She had summed up their relationship in six words. That was their relationship. Having fun. But it was different… This wasn't when you were in elementary school and your best friend was who you played with on the playground… But at the same time, it was. She was the girl he would always pick to play with first. She was the one that made his recess come alive. She was the one that he would always share his ideas with, no matter how silly. She was that girl, that one that believed that she and he could do great things with office supplies. The one that would gladly be caught red-handed with him if she had to be. The risk was always worth it with Pam. He missed having fun with her too. He missed seeing that smile. The prankster smile, as he called it.

_Cause__ I love to see her smile back at me  
__And I know she is happy_

He got out of his car and took a deep breath, the vision of her smiling face stained in his mind. He raced up the stairs, into the office, and was surprised to see that she wasn't sitting at reception. He looked around the room for her, before walking towards the conference room. Through the blinds, he saw a small piece of her shirt and he smiled to himself. There she was. The woman he wanted. He turned the doorknob and stuck his head inside, apologized to the camera more for formalities than anything else, and turned to the woman of his dreams. He smiled at the thought that she wasn't dolled up. She was just his Pam. She was the woman that threw on whatever was clean and comfortable in the morning, put her hair back in a barrette and walked out the door. That was his girl. He tried to speak once, but his mouth didn't open. Then the words pushed their way out of his mouth with a force too strong for anyone to stop them. "Pam." Her name sounded wonderful on his lips, he realized. Three letters, when put together, tasted sweet in his mouth. "Um, are you free for dinner tonight." He had asked her. He waited for his response. "Yes." One word, simple, but beautiful. The one word he had needed to hear from her. "Alright, then it's a date." He had smiled when he saw it. He'd skipped down the hall, into the elevator, and leaned back against it, a huge smile on his face. He could only imagine the smile that was on her face.

_Maybe it's her touch, the feel of her hands  
__When__ she puts her tiny fingers in mine_

Jim opened the door to his car and smiled to himself. He glanced up to the building where he'd left her, and was surprised to see her staring at him out the window. He smiled up at her and waved, and was relieved when she did the same back. She placed her hands on the glass, as if to say, 'don't go.' He put a few fingers up, telling her how long it would be until he saw her again. She smiled at that, and he got in his car and drove toward his home. As he drove, he thought about that night. His mind could hardly get away from Pam, not even for a moment. He thought about what she would wear, how beautiful she would look. Just like always. He thought about the smile that would invade her face, as it always did when she was with him. He thought about what they would talk about, how it would feel to be riding in a car with the woman of his dreams knowing that she was reality. His dreams all came true. He thought about how she would reach across the seat and touch his fingers, how an electrifying shock would overwhelm them both. He thought about how he would hold her hands while he drove, while they walked, while they ate dinner. How eventually, when they did have to break off for necessity reasons, they would both prolong it. He thought about how all he wanted to do was hold her, to know she was his. How he longed for her fingers to touch him in a way that told the world he was hers. He thought about how perfect her hands would fit inside his. He almost forgot to breathe.

_Maybe it's her eyes gently searching my soul  
__Still__ nothing stirs me like when I see those lips roll  
__And I see her smile_

He thought about how it would feel to be able to look at her without worrying that she might catch him. How wonderful it would be to look into her eyes and read her thoughts and feelings. How unguarded they would become in each other's presence. He thought about how she would look at him, how she would find out so much about him without either of them having to say a word. He thought about how she would smile when he told her how he felt; how she would smile when he "accidentally" grazed her foot under the table. How she would smile when he was at the door. And as that smile stained his face, his phone rang. He looked down and there was her name, on his phone, more beautiful than any other name he'd seen before. And her picture. A picture he'd secretly taken of her one day when she'd been making a funny face. A cute funny face. He picked up his phone and smiled.

"Dunder-Mifflin, this is Jim," he sing-songed into the phone. He could hear her smile on the other line. He could even imagine her smile as she sat at her desk, hearing his voice on the other end.

"That would be my job, Halpert." He smiled at the demanding accusation in her voice. "So, here's what I'm thinking." He opened his mouth to say something silly, but she cut him off. "It's seven o'clock somewhere, right?"

"Yeah, I think in Argentina it's seven o'clock," he replied, laughing.

"Well, today we live in Argentina," she said smiling. "I'm leaving right now."

He laughed. "The front door is unlocked."

_Cause__ I love to see her smile back at me  
__And I know she is happy_

He sat on his bed, facing the nightstand where she had once sat. He pretended to type, but really, he was just staring there, as if magically, she'd appear. He'd scruffed up his hair for her; he knew she'd hated his haircut. He'd changed into jeans and a nice shirt. Pam always liked him to dress comfortably. He sat on his bed, facing the window, when all of a sudden, the world went black in front of him. He felt something over his eyes and he smiled. He took in a new scent, but a familiar scent. He put his hands over hers and smiled. He felt the bed shift under him as she sat down, letting her hands fall to her lap. He looked over at her and smiled. She looked beautiful. More beautiful than she'd ever looked before. He couldn't stop the words from coming out of his mouth.

"You're beautiful," he whispered to her. She smiled up at him, and he could tell she believed him. She rested her head on his shoulder and he looked down at her, smiling. "Hey." Her eyes found his and he whispered to her again, "I love you."

He watched as she smiled, first with her eyes, then with her mouth. It wasn't just a normal smile, it was a smile that started from the very core of her being. A smile that entangled him and made him want to hold on to the moment forever because he could see the happiness that started so deep inside her and radiated so far past her.

She looked up at him and kissed him lightly before whispering back, "I love you too."

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	3. I Won't Say I'm In Love

_A/N: I am a disney freak. Not going to lie. And this is not the only Disney song that reminds me of JAM. The other one on my list is seriously the perfect song for the two of them, but we'll save that for a later date. Here you go, Pam's thoughts on Jim as she denies her love for him... I guess it's set sometime in Season Three, none of us really know when she realizes she's in love with him... I think it's probably around The Merger, where she'd loved him before, he'd left her, and she'd tried to get over him by convincing herself she never loved him, and now, here she is, seeing him. And let's watch it unfold._

_Song: "I Won't Say I'm in Love" from Hercules. The parenthesis are the background vocals... 

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If there's a prize for rotten judgment  


__I guess I've already won that  
__No man is worth the aggravation  
__That's__ ancient history--been there, done that! _

I can't believe I spent so many years with Roy. At first, it was pretty thrilling. I was that geeky kid that nobody wanted to sit next to at the lunch table and he was the strong, athletic, hunk of a man that every girl swooned over. Lucky for me, we'd met outside of school so he didn't realize that until about two months after we'd started dating. I knew if we'd met at school he wouldn't have dated me. I probably should have realized that meant I shouldn't be with him. If the circumstances had been different, we wouldn't be together. He wouldn't have wanted to be. I think that makes all the difference in the world.

Circumstances have never been right for Jim and I, but I still genuinely think he wants to be with me… Or at least wanted to. I kind of want to be with him too, but I think it's just my loneliness settling and the idea he planted in my mind. My mother used to say that confessions of love are an aphrodisiac. She'd tell me that you could fall into so many different predicaments and horrible relationships just because somebody said he liked you. You don't even have to like him back, but the possibility of being pursued, well that's something that turns you on.

It's like that with Jim, and I don't want it to be. He doesn't realize it. I don't want to hurt him by thinking I like him, and then realize it was just his confession that did me in. I've already hurt enough guys. And I've already been in enough rotten relationships… Okay, so I've been in one, but if he was the most sought after guy in the school, why would geeky, nerdy Jim be any better? There's a reason Roy was so popular. If he was rotten judgment, I can't imagine what Jim would be.

He's just not worth it, I suppose. I've decided not to date anyone. I've sworn off dating. I'm done with it. At least for now. No man is worth the pain love causes.

_(Who d'ya think you're kiddin'?  
He's the earth and heaven to you  
Try to keep it hidden  
Honey, we can see right through you  
Girl, ya can't conceal it  
We know how ya feel and  
you're thinkin' of)_

Everyone is always trying to tell me how I feel about him. Meredith will say things about how snazzy he looks, and Phyllis is always all over how cute we are together. It's almost like she assumes she could have missed some hook up. Angela is always giving me evil glares. Michael is always teasing me about it. I'm just so sick of people assuming there is something going on.

We're just friends. That's all we'll ever be. Best friends. So what if I think he's attractive? There's not a single girl that wouldn't. I mean, hell, he looks good. But that doesn't mean we're in love or that there's chemistry between us or anything. We're just friends. If we happen to be looking at each other, usually it's because we're willing the other person to turn around so we can send eye messages about how much of a dweeb Dwight is. Just because you look at someone or have fun with them doesn't mean there's anything happening.

Besides, he's got a girlfriend, Karen. So I don't know why anyone would think something would be going on between us. He's not the type to cheat on his girlfriend, and I am definitely not the type to be the "other woman", home wrecker, whatever you want to call it. Not that I'd really be a home wrecker since they aren't married and they don't have children, but still. I'm just not that kind of girl.

I'm allowed to smile and laugh when I'm with him. It's not that hard to imagine that two people can be just friends. Seriously. If I was acting the same way around Angela or Kelly, nobody would accuse me of having a crush on them. I don't see why it's any different because Jim has a penis. Grow up, people. We're just friends.

_No chance, no way I won't say it, no, no  
(You swoon, you sigh Why deny it, uh-oh)  
It's too cliché I won't say I'm in love_

I will say that I enjoy him more than anyone else in my life. Even my mother, and everyone knows how much I love my mommy. But it's a different kind of enjoyment, not the sexual kind where I want him to throw me against the wall and fuck me mercilessly… Well, maybe I wouldn't mind that. He is rather dishy. But it's not that with him. With him it's more that I want to play pranks on unsuspecting coworkers, laugh about what was on TV last night, and do silly things like buy 69 cups of Ramen Noodles. It's not the emotional tumult that is love. That's for sure.

If I was in love with Jim, like so many people seem to assume I am, it would be different. I would feel weird… Floaty, maybe? I'm not really sure how to describe it. It's a weird occurrence, being in love. I'm actually not sure if I'm the best one to explain it because honestly, I'm not sure if I ever was really in love with Roy… Okay, that's a lie. At some point, I was madly, passionately in love with Roy. But was it worth it? Were those feelings of love worth the heartbreak that is now? I don't think so, but they're a distant memory. I can't remember.

I'm just so sick of hearing the phrase "in love". What the hell does that mean, anyway? How is that any different than just loving someone? I don't know. And I'm not in love with Jim. It's just so… I don't know. How many girls say "I'm in love with my best friend" and then giggle and eat ice cream and get fat because of it? I don't know, but I'm sure it's a lot. I'm not going to be that girl. Nope. I am not in love with Jim.

_I thought my heart had learned its lesson  
It feels so good when you start out  
My head is screaming, get a grip, girl  
Unless you're dying to cry your heart out, Oh_

It's just a friendly love between us. Of course I love him. He's my best friend, I've known him for years and years. I tell all of my girlfriends I love them, why is Jim any different? Besides, I love our relationship. I love that we can laugh and have fun and not have to worry about anything except being together. Maybe I am starting to see him as more than that, but I can easily push those feelings and thoughts away. It's not like he's overcome me or anything. He's just Jim. He's just that best friend I always wanted but never had. Yes, I love him. But in love? Of course not. I don't do that anymore.

_(You keep on denyin'  
Who you are and how you're feelin'  
Baby, we're not buyin'  
Hon, we saw ya hit the ceilin'  
Face it like a grown-up  
When ya gonna own up  
That you got, got, got it bad?)  
Whoa_

Kelly keeps telling me how cute we look together. I believe her, of course. Jim could make Janet Reno look cute. The camera crew is always showing me little clips of how I smile when he's around, and yeah, sure, it looks like more than a smile, but it isn't… It's kind of embarrassing, actually, when they bring it up. Sure, I'm a girl. What girl doesn't swoon and stammer when a cute guy talks to her? Even Jim. I think it's just a part of being a girl. Just a part of being friends with a boy. Seeing him grin and seeing a bit of his shirt tail untucked. What girl wouldn't imagine why it was untucked? And what girl wouldn't be disappointed when she found out it was just because he went to the bathroom?

Yeah, of course I feel a little light and giddy when he comes around. I know what's coming. The smiles, the laughter, the fun pranks. And of course on camera it looks like more. Doesn't the camera add some sort of romantic drama to everything? I know they add ten pounds, but I think it's ten pounds of fake romance. But yeah, my heart does skip a little beat every time he looks at me… And I do sometimes dream about him.. Sometimes when I'm playing Solitaire, I'm not going to lie, I imagine us in bed together… But that's only because I'm imagining the orgasm… It's not really _us_ I'm imagining… It's just the act. That yummy act. Mmm.

_No chance, no way I won't say it, no, no  
(Give up, give in  
Check the grin--you're in love)  
This scene won't play I won't say I'm in love  
(You're doin' flips Read our lips: you're in love)_

My mom keeps telling me it's love. I don't know how she even knows about Jim enough to make that declaration. I mean, I hardly ever talk about him. He just happens to enter the conversation because I have a lot of fun with him at work, and he's my best friend. It's like when Harry Met Sally. Two people can be best friends forever without romantic crap getting in the way. I never saw the end of that movie, but I'm sure it's true.

Yes, when he's around I seem to relax and let these huge, goofy smiles cover my entire face. But he's hilarious. Any girl would tell you that. Any gay guy would too. He's just cute and funny and everything any girl would want. Maybe if I hadn't sworn off men after Roy, I might be interested, but I did. I'm done with men for now. Not that I'm on to women or anything, but I'm done with men.

Except sometimes, when he looks at me, my stomach gets twisted and starts doing somersaults inside of my body… I'm sure that's normal. It's probably just the yogurt I ate for lunch. It's bound to go bad every now and then, isn't it?

_You're way off base  
I won't say it  
Get off my case  
I won't say it  
(Girl, don't be proud  
It's O.K. you're in love)_

So he does make me feel a bit like a princess. Like I could conquer anything or do anything I wanted to. I never felt that way with Roy… That's how I know this is different. I was in love with Roy, and I felt completely different than I do with Jim. Jim makes me happy to be alive. He puts smiles on my face, he makes me laugh. He makes me want to dress up in the morning, want to look my best. He makes me want to go to work, and he makes me feel like I'm flying. That's so different from what I've felt before. He's a special man; we have a special relationship. That's all. Nothing different about us, other than how loud my heart beats when our hands touch, or when I catch him staring at me.

_Oh  
At least out loud  
I won't say I'm in love_

Okay, universe, you win. I'm in love.

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A/N: Please review. I don't want to be a stickler about it or a review-begger, but honestly. If you're reading the story, it's nice to review. I try to review all the stories I read, and I feel that any reader owes the author some sort of review. To those of you who have, thank you! I really appreciate it. I'm less likely to get the next chapter up if I don't have a lot of reviews. Even if they say that you hate the story, I still want to hear. So, I hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reading! 


	4. Don't Give Up

_A/N: Well, here it is. The next chapter. The past two have been a bit fluffy, this one is completely not the same, though it gets better at the end. When I first heard the song, it reminded me of Ram/Poy, but the more I listened to it the more I wanted to make it about Jim/Pam. So, here it is. It's called "Don't Give Up" and it's by Sanctus Real. For those of you who haven't caught on yet, I have a broad taste in music. Thanks for the reviews so far, and feel free to give more reccomendations if you have any! 

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I heard you say you would love for a lifetime

_

_Now you complain a lifetime just doesn't feel right for you_

_Another casualty of casual love_

_Another soul out of place, a heart that gave up_

She remembered the day she'd told him it was over. It had only been four years into their marriage, and the fights had escalated so much that they seemed to be the rule, rather than the exception They hadn't jumped into marriage, which was perhaps why it was such a heartbreak for her to admit that she couldn't do it anymore. They'd been best friends for years before they'd ever even gone on a date. They'd dated for under a year, but still longer than most, and gotten married within two years of their dating relationship. And then, four years later, she'd sat on the couch and told the love of her life that she just couldn't do it anymore.

It wasn't that she didn't love him. She did love him; she loved him in that way that wives do after they've shared everyone with someone for years. It was the kind of love that never went away. She'd remembered a time early into their relationship when she'd watched One Fine Day with her niece, and she'd always remembered the line, "I will always love your father because he gave me you."

She'd thought it was touching, yet a crock at the same time. If she'd been so upset with her husband to divorce, how could she ever say she would always love him. Sitting there on the couch telling Jim she wanted a divorce, she understood. She would always love him. He'd given her the chance to fall in love; she'd dreamed of that since she was a little girl, and he had truly made it happen. He'd rescued her from the life that she could have had with Roy. Roy's best day was leagues below Jim's worst day. She knew that. She'd gotten lucky, finding Jim. Having him force her into leaving Roy had been good for her, and it had taught her some things she hadn't known she needed to be taught.

After she'd left Roy, she'd spent a torturous year pining after the man she thought had once loved her. When they'd finally gotten together, they didn't want to mess anything up. Both of them felt like they were supposed to be in it for the long haul, and yet, they'd neglected to talk about the important things before getting married: kids, values, morals, power. All of the things that made a relationship complete and made it succeed past a few months, they hadn't talked about it. She'd naively thought that love would be enough.

And that's why she'd sat there, four years, five months, and three days into their relationship and told him she wanted a divorce. She wanted to live her life alone because the fighting and the bickering wasn't worth it anymore. She was tired of it.

When she told him, she'd seen his heart break. She'd felt the heaviness in the room, saw his eyes darken and his face fall. Saw his mouth close as he tried desperately not to yell at her, to say what was on his mind. When he'd looked up at her, there had been tears gathered in his eyes.

_Why do we break the promises we make?_

_Are we living for ourselves?_

He hadn't quite understood why she wanted this, and if she'd been honest with herself, she didn't quite know either. Things had just been different and unbearable. Ever since she'd quit her job at Dunder Mifflin and started her own design company, he'd been acting strange. She wasn't sure what it was. They weren't hurting for anything—she was making more than enough at her job to support them both. They were home, together, the same amount of time they'd been before.

It had come out, though. When she'd told him about the divorce, he hadn't been angry like she'd expected he would. Honestly, she'd expected that he'd react the same way Roy had acted when she'd told him it was over. That he'd grab her or throw things at her. She'd been silly to think this, she knew Jim wasn't Roy. Jim might yell or be frustrated or angry with her, but he would never hurt her. Especially not intentionally.

She'd watched him on the other side of the couch, his head in his hands. He was shaking, and she could hear sniffles coming from him when he looked up at her. Tears were rolling down his cheeks, and he'd said words that had haunted her afterwards. When she'd moved out, they'd still haunted her; they shook her to the core of her being.

"What about our vows? What about for better or worse?" The words had nearly frozen her. She'd told herself before she wouldn't back down. He wouldn't be able to convince her to stay, but those words almost did. She never was the type to break a promise or a vow. Her integrity was important to her. Her mother had always said that if you don't have integrity, you don't have anything. And yet, she'd still left.

_Don't give up on love and throw it all away_

_Don't give up on love and let it fall away_

_When did it become so easy to run from your pain?_

_Don't give up on love and throw it all away_

He'd asked her to stay. Not begged, but pleaded. He never was the begging type. He was the type that stated the facts of his emotions and startled you. He would make big, bold declarations, but he hardly ever followed them through. She'd seen it happen the night he first told her about his feelings. He'd told her he was in love with her, kissed her senseless, and then when she was too startled to respond, he'd left her. He'd left her standing there. She didn't understand how he could make such a big deal about her leaving him when he'd done it to her so many years ago.

He'd told her he was in love with her. He'd even said he was madly in love with her. She'd told him it didn't count if all he did was say it. He'd told her he couldn't live without her. She'd told him he better learn. He'd told her he missed her. He'd missed her so much since she quit her job. She'd told him he should have told her that. And then he'd looked up at her, and the pain in his eyes hurt her so much she couldn't do anything but leave. So she'd stood up, took her bag, and walked to the door, leaving behind half of her heart, aching and broken with the man who'd shattered it.

When she'd gotten outside of the door, the tears had begun to fall from her eyes. So much of her life had been wasted on Roy, and then she'd wasted even more of it on Jim. He'd told her not to give up on them. He'd told her to let him have another chance, and she'd refused. She didn't know why she had, but she had. She was sick of giving second chances.

_I heard you say you can't change a stubborn heart_

_I can relate 'cause that's how I feel when I talk with you_

He'd called her a few days later, asking her to please give him another chance. He'd said he would never stop loving her and that just because she didn't feel it didn't mean his love wasn't real. He was just going through a phase. A phase, he had said. Well, she didn't want to be a part of a phase like this one. She didn't want to be part of a phase that left her empty and broken, crying to herself every morning when he left. Her art had become so angry, and he'd hardly realized. He'd been crippling her.

He'd said he would never stop loving her; there was nothing she could do to make him stop loving her. He'd told her his stubborn heart wouldn't let him. She'd told him her own heart was stubborn, and it wasn't about to let him back in. She could relate to that. Maybe she wanted to love him, but she just couldn't. Not without the past. She couldn't love his present, or his future, and she couldn't live like that. She didn't want to be the woman in sixty years who only loved her husband for the first four years of their marriage. She refused to be that woman.

_Why should it take losing everything_

_To realize it might be time to change?_

She'd sat at her new apartment painting the day she'd filed. He hadn't come after her or done anything other than his initial attempt to stop her to change her mind. She was okay with that. She'd made her mind up anyway. He wasn't going to be able to change it; she was sure of that. She'd thought back to the early days of their relationship, and she suddenly remembered why she'd married Jim in the first place. It was enough for her to drop her brush, splattering paint all over the canvas.

She heard a knock at her door and debated answering it versus trying to clean up the mess she'd made. She knew if she went to go answer it, her painting would be ruined. It was probably just a post office worker anyway. She'd reached for her paint brush to start cleaning the mess up, but all of a sudden her feet were walking to the door. When she'd opened it, she'd been unprepared for who was standing there.

He had a dozen yellow roses in his hands, his eyes were red and blotchy, and he was wearing the shirt she'd gotten him for his birthday. She knew he secretly hated it, and to be honest, she'd only gotten it for him as a joke. He only wore it on special days, like her birthday or their anniversary. And there he was in front of her, standing there, and she almost didn't know what to do. She stuck her hands on her hips and smiled at him lightly, completely aware that she looked hideous with paint smears on her face and her hair pulled back messily.

He smiled at her lightly, and she opened the door wider to let him in, but he didn't budge. He seemed almost afraid of it, as if he couldn't go into her house because there was no way he'd be able to face it. "Pam," he'd whispered to her, and she'd nodded slightly, looking up at him with fearful eyes. "I know you can't stand me right now. Maybe you hate me. I know I've done a lot of bad things, and I haven't shown you my love the way I should have… I'm not asking you to come back and give me a second chance at being your husband…" She looked at him, confused. Then why was he here? And why wasn't he about to grovel at her feet? If he loved her so much, couldn't he at least do that?

"I want to take you out to dinner. Start over, maybe… I don't know. I'm so in love with you, and I've been a fool not to show you that, and I just feel like maybe we're circling back into that time in our lives where there was Karen, and I was being horrible, and I don't want to do that… I want to get back to where we were. Just give me one date to show you how much I love you. One date, and then I'll sign the stupid papers and be done with it. I just…"

He'd trailed off slightly, and as much as she wanted to look down and run away, she'd kept her eyes on him.

He looked into her eyes and spoke slowly, surely, "I don't want you to be miserable. And I feel like I need to let you know one time how I feel. Just like I did the casino night. And if you can't, that's okay. If you don't feel what I am trying to show you, that's fine. If after that night, you still want to sign the papers and move on with your life, that's fine. I'll cooperate. Just give me one night. Please."

Now he was begging. She couldn't stand the thought of having her husband begging for her to give him a chance on her front step, so she nodded. "One night, Jim. I'll see you Friday." He nodded and smiled to himself as she shut the door in his face, rushing back to the table where she'd been painting, seeing how it was completely ruined by the dripping paint and she felt as if her life had been completely ruined. And for a moment, all she'd wanted to do was cry.

_Your restless heart won't win 'cause you take but you don't give_

_And you'll keep moving on until you learn what love is_

She sat there, staring at the wall, thinking about the date she almost didn't go on with the husband she'd almost let go. He'd taken her to Cugino's, where they'd had lunch the day they'd met. He'd told her about Dunder Mifflin, how he fully supported her and her art career, but he missed her at work. He'd told her how he couldn't get into the groove of pranking anyone without her there. He'd told her that his days seemed longer, and he couldn't imagine his life without her to come home to. He'd told her about how much he loved her and how it had killed him inside when she'd asked for a divorce. He'd told her that she was his entire world. Every bit of him belonged to her. He told her how he'd felt so unsuccessful since she'd gotten her new job because she was providing for them both and suddenly he'd felt like he had no purpose in her life, and it ate him up inside. He'd told her all of these things, and piece of information by piece of information, the walls around her heart had gotten smaller and smaller, until the only thing he could do was soften her heart.

It hadn't happened in one date. It had hardly happened at all the first date. At the end of it, she almost hadn't said yes when he'd asked to see her again. But he'd looked so nervous she'd had to accept. And on the second date, he'd told her about how he couldn't sleep the night before, he was so excited to see her. And so she'd accepted a third date. And a fourth. And a fifth. And then finally, he'd got down on one knee and proposed to her again. And she'd accepted that too.

They'd never officially divorced, so they couldn't have a second wedding. He'd refused to sign the papers as long as she'd stuck around, and by the time she'd remembered they were even there, they'd expired. When she'd pulled them out a few months into their new relationship, she'd run to Jim to show him. She'd grinned and wrapped her arms around his neck, so happy that they'd expired, that she had no choice but to keep him around for at least a little while longer.

They'd said vows to each other one night in front of the fireplace, consummated their second marriage and vowed never to let anything bring them a part again. It had been ten years since that night, and even though they'd had difficulties, and they'd stopped communicating well for a bit of time, they'd never given up on each other. It was as if the divorce scare had reminded each of them why they'd gotten married in the first place. It had reminded her of her vows and her integrity.

She looked up when she heard a tiny creak on the stairs and she smiled, seeing Jim standing there, his smile bright enough to light up the room. Her eyes traveled down his body until they reached his hands, relaxed at his sides, one holding a teddy bear and the other holding the hand of a little girl. Their little girl, Allie.

"Hi Mommy," he says, smiling. Her heart melts every time he calls her that because it's more than just a term of endearment like sweetie, or baby, or honey. It's laced with so much promise and hope that she can almost feel her entire future on the horizon, and it feels so good.

"Hi Daddy," she says softly, and they lock eyes for a moment and it's as if the world has faded away. She gets up from her place on the couch and climbs the stairs up to where Jim and her daughter are standing, and she wraps her arms around him, hugging him tight, knowing that he has no idea where all of her emotion came from, but she can't help it. She thinks about all they've been through and nothing seems more important to her at that moment than being held by the man she loves.

She feels a slight tug on her shirt and she looks down at her daughter, smiling. "Mommy, can I sleep with you and Daddy tonight?" She smiles and takes Allie's other hand, and the three of them head back up to bed, hand in hand, ready for a night of cuddling under the covers. It's nights like these when she knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that she made the right choice. Later that night, he smiles at her across the bed and she smiles back at him, knowing without a doubt that she's finally found out what love really is. She feels his love, and she sees it in his eyes, but she knows that true love comes only when you fight for it. And she knows she'll fight for his until the day she dies.


	5. Everybody Does

_A/N: Everybody Does, by Martina Mcbride. It's off her Waking up Laughing CD and I just love it!!!! Reminds me of them too, of course._

_Someone (actually, a few people) have asked me where they can get these songs. Well, you're in lucky. I've opened an account on a music sharing site that will let me upload these songs for you. As I write the chapters and post them, I'll upload the songs, give you the link, and you can download them. I don't think you can stream them. The last three songs are up and this one will be too. So happy listening._ Go to my profile page to see the link.

As always, any ideas, let me know. If you've given me some already, I've looked at them and added them to my list. I have about 25 songs LEFT still, so this is far from over! Enjoy, and please Review! 

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This 

__ain't__ the first time you've fallen in love  
__With your heart wide open  
__Feeling just like a fool knowing that  
__You're the only one left holding on  
__He broke your heart  
__You can't cry hard enough  
__But you're not the only one_

Pam heard the phone ringing just as she was getting up to leave for the day. She cursed the caller softly, upset that she was going to be even later getting home to Ben and Jerry now that she had to direct someone's call to the nearest voicemail. Michael had kept her late by locking himself in his office playing with his toys, and since Jan had directly asked Pam to record his every move and thought, that meant she was stuck at the office too. She had no idea what she would say if Michael asked her why she was staying late, but really, it wasn't like she had an

excuse to go home. All that was waiting for her was Ben, Jerry and her pajamas. And maybe a little bit of 28 Days, NOT 28 Days Later.

She sighed and picked up the phone, her voice automated, "Dunder-Mifflin?"

"Uh, hey…" The familiar voice said, and she could feel her heart skipping a few beats. That voice. She would recognize that voice even if it spoke into one of the voice-changing machines Dwight used for his "investigations." Her best friend's voice was a sound that was ingrained inside of her. It was so much a part of her she was sure that years from now, if she hadn't heard it in twenty years, she would still be able to recall it. She was that sure of it's hold over her.

She thought back to that night when the same voice had told her what she'd been waiting to hear for so long. He'd told her he was in love with her, and she'd just stood there like a fumbling idiot, muttering things about 'I can't', and 'what do you want me to say to that?' It was only when she'd gotten home that night that she realized what she'd done. It was bad enough that she'd hurt her best friend by lying to him to his face, unintentionally, of course, but she'd lied to herself, too.

It had taken her only a few minutes to realize that the depth of love Jim had for her, regardless of how she felt about Jim, wasn't the same depth of love she had for Roy. It wasn't fair to him. She shouldn't marry someone she hardly loved; there should be some sort of passion there. And she was sure he didn't love her in the same way either. He never really had, if they could be honest. She'd longed so long for Roy to speak to her the way Jim had spoken to her that night, but she knew she was waiting on the cow to jump over the moon. Roy would never be that kind of person. He wasn't a sweet talker, and she knew that. She'd always known that.

There had been a time she'd fallen in love with Roy. When she was younger, he was definitely a catch. He was popular, built, and he was just that guy everyone wanted. And she, the artsy-fartsy not-fully-developed-yet teenager had somehow landed him. And he was good to her. As good as he could be expected to be. Now things were different. Through the years he'd changed, and with that change, her heart had broken.

She'd spent three years denying that she loved Jim. She'd focused on how amazing their friendship was, and perhaps, that's why she'd lost the friendship. When he'd said all of those things to her, she'd frozen. She'd been so surprised and taken aback she wasn't sure how to react. She'd only said what popped into her mind, which considering the shock that had emanated inside of her, was relatively little. She'd tried to reinforce how much she valued and loved his friendship. But she hadn't been persuasive enough, or perhaps he was too wounded to care. Either way, he left her only three days later without a word of goodbye, and her heart throbbed inside of her. She loved Jim. Everyone knew she did. But was she in love with Jim? That she didn't know until she felt how much her heart hurt when he'd left her.

He'd left her. She'd tried to reach out, but he had never reached back. She would have given anything to get him back, but he was so unreachable, so utterly unreachable, she wasn't sure what she would have to give. She just knew she was willing. And what hurt the most was that she knew she was the only one holding on to the thread of their relationship.

That night, after they'd awkwardly hung up the phone, she'd driven home to Ben, Jerry and her pajamas. Instead of curling up to Sandra Bullock like she'd planned, she curled up to the salty tears running down her cheeks as she thought about all she'd lost. She felt all alone, unable to comprehend how anyone could ever have possibly felt as horrible as she did.

_Everybody loves someone  
__Everybody hurts sometimes  
__Everybody__ says they'll never fall again  
__But everybody does__Yeah, everybody does_

He'd come back, and his presence had seemed to stab at her heart more than anything else. She saw him with her, and it was as if the knife that he'd thrust into her heart was now being turned, painfully. Moved in every direction in an attempt to break her open. It was as if her heart was bleeding now, and not just bleeding, but gushing the blood of the pain she felt all over the place. The tightness in her chest overwhelmed her as she watched him. She used to be his best friend. She could have been more than that, if she'd known she'd wanted it. But now, she just longed to be his friend again. To hear him speak to her.

Her mother had told her things like this happen. That everyone goes through heartbreak and everyone falls for someone who just doesn't fall back. But this was different. This pain was so different because he had fallen for her. He had, at one point, been in love with her. And when she finally caught up to where he was, he was long gone, falling in love with someone else. She didn't know how to ease the pain, so she went to the one person that was her safety net. The one person that she relied on to stand guard when she was afraid or upset. The one person she could mask all of her emotions with.

Roy. She went to Roy. And they did the "boyfriend-girlfriend" thing for a while, and it really wasn't bad. She enjoyed it. She enjoyed him. And even though she went home every night and cried herself to sleep because she couldn't even speak to Jim, she believed she was getting happier. He was her medicine. She knew she would never fall in love with him, but maybe she could be with him long enough that he could take away her pain, then she could leave him and be okay. It would be easier to get over Roy than it would be to get over Jim. She knew that. She also knew she would never, ever fall in love again.

_How many times have you said he's the one  
And found out that he wasn't  
Always thinking it's gonna hurt forever  
But then one day it doesn't anymore_

They were sitting at the bar, and she knew he was making a real effort. An effort to be there for her, to support her the way he had before he'd gotten lazy and forgot that she was the best thing in his life. She knew she had to open up to him, and so she did, she told him about Jim's declaration. She told him about the kiss. She told him about the feelings she used to have, but she didn't tell him about the feelings she did have. That would have been too much.

He yelled and threw things, and it scared her. His anger really scared her. But she didn't mind it too much at first. He didn't throw things at her. He didn't attack her, so it wasn't that bad. The pain of Jim had seemed to wear off the night before. She'd gone to bed one night crying herself to sleep over him, over seeing Karen with him. The next day, she'd walked into the office and to her surprise, and let's face it, her relief as well, it hadn't hurt when she was him with her. Even the small kiss they shared at her car hadn't hurt her. She was over him. It felt great. And she knew she had Roy to thank for that.

Roy. The man she had said was "the one" so many times, and yet he wasn't. She knew that as much today as she had when she broke off the engagement, but who wants to face those facts? She'd decided to bear with it, and yet, here she was, watching the man she claimed was "the one" throwing things at the mirror in Poor Richards, yelling at her about Jim. And she knew more than ever he wasn't the one.

He came in the next morning to kill Jim. Ran up the stairs to the building and ran at Jim about the kiss he and Pam had shared. And when Dwight had used the pepper spray and nearly killed them all, she knew it was over. It had always been over. It had been over before it started. And she felt free.

_You've come so far  
Still a long way to go  
Just remember you're never alone_

She'd even become friends with Karen, that's how far she'd come from the nights when she cried herself to sleep over the lost friendship. This new Jim was different. This Jim didn't care about her the way Old Jim had. And she, honestly, didn't want any sort of relationship with Different Jim. Old Jim, she missed Old Jim more than she could ever describe. But the Jim that sat in front of her, flirting with Karen, that wasn't the Jim she knew. And she wasn't going to cry over that Jim any longer. And she wasn't going to let him keep her from having fun and friendships with other women. That would be silly.

When Karen had come to her with relationship problems with Jim, she'd felt a little smug at the insinuation Karen had made that perhaps she knew Jim better. Or that she could talk him into things. It had lasted only a second until she saw Karen's face. She'd looked so upset, so sad that it reminded her of the days she'd spent so frustrated and upset over Jim, and also the days she'd spent frustrated with Roy. As much as Karen's pain shouldn't have, it did please her. Just a little bit. Because she knew that she wasn't alone. Jim hadn't hurt just her. He was hurting women left and right, and for some reason, that made her feel damn good.

_Everybody jumps in  
__Never__ really __knowin  
__Where it's really __goin  
__You just have to trust in  
__Your heart, oh yeah_

She'd ran quickly across the hot coals, her feet scorched from the fire but her entire body feeling alive because of it. It was a mysterious feeling that she really, honestly, could not explain. She felt free all of a sudden, and even though the crying Pam with the Dublin Mudslide stains on her pajamas wouldn't have approved, she felt she had to speak her mind. Dublin Mudslide Pam would never imagined telling Jim how she felt, but this new Pam, Fancy New Beesly, she was going to speak her mind.

She'd told him how much she missed him, how she'd called off the wedding because of what he'd made her realize. She'd told him about how it was okay he was with Karen, how she missed the friendship she was holding onto. The one that ONLY she was holding on to. She'd never once said she was over him. She was beginning to be, but she wasn't there yet. And she knew that. She'd told him the truth, and then she'd let him be. She'd trusted her heart when her heart had said to go for it, and now, here she was, a day later, sitting in the conference room recounting in her mind what had just happened.

He'd asked her out, and she'd said yes. She had thought she had made so much progress on getting over him, but she hadn't. She knew she hadn't. Some things, she just wasn't meant to get over. Everybody hurts; everybody's burned; everybody is sure they will never fall in love again, but the funny thing is, everybody does. And everybody finds that person that makes them feel complete. The funny thing was, hers were all wrapped into one person.

She licked her lips and stared at the camera man, her head reeling. A smile was overtaking her as she opened her mouth.

"I'm sorry, what was the question?"

Not only did she not know the question, she didn't know what the answer was, either.

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Review! 


	6. Collide

WARNING: This is racy and dirty and smut-filled. Sorry. I don't like doing that, but this song just called for it. So, if you can't handle it or don't want to read that stuff, then either skip the story, or skip the third section.

Also, if you don't already, I dare you all to go read my newest story 20 Questions Plus One. It's been keeping me so busy I can't write this one!

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The dawn is breaking  
A light shining through  
You're barely waking  
And I'm tangled up in youYeah_

Jim's eyes fluttered open to the light coming through his bedroom window. He sighed, completely aware that it was Saturday morning and he should be able to sleep in, and yet, he couldn't. It always seemed to happen to him this way. The days where he could sleep in were the days where he woke up too early. And yet, for some reason, he wasn't upset at all that the sun had woken him up rather than letting him sleep. The room smelled different, felt different, even through his grogginess.

He heard a sound next to him, and the memories of the night before came flooding back to him. The memories of her in that beautiful blue dress, her golden hair curled around her face, her smile fading as her lips rested on his, her hands running through his hair. He turned to look at her, lying next to him in bed, a smile on her face but her eyes shut with sleep. He couldn't help but gaze at her. She was so beautiful.

She was clutching his striped sheets under her arms and even though she seemed to disappear under them he could see the freckles on her bare shoulders, so close to him he wanted to lean down and kiss every one of them, like he'd fantasized about doing for years. He studied the wrinkles on her face, silently cursing Roy for putting them there, yet wondering how she could ever make wrinkles look so beautiful.

Her hair was stuck to her face from the sweat of the previous night, but he didn't mind. He still thought she was gorgeous, even drenched in his sticky sweat. He pulled her closer to him lightly and reached his hand down the cover, running it lightly down her hip, not wanting to wake her up, until he reached her hand. He pressed his palm against hers and was surprised when her fingers spread apart to let him hold her hand, and he was suddenly aware of how perfectly they fit. Her head stirred slightly until it landed on his chest, and when he looked down at her, all he could see was her, beautiful and innocent in the sunlight.

_I'm open, you're closed  
__Where I follow, you'll go  
__I worry I won't see your face  
__Light up again_

His mind drifted back to the night before, when everything came to a head. Standing on the sidewalk with her, staring into her eyes and telling her how he felt was so frightening. It had to have been the most frightening experience of his life, and yet he was sure his voice hadn't wavered or faltered. Even when she'd turned him down and told him she couldn't love him back, he was still sure his voice had remained steady and even, perfect, even.

And then when he'd followed her upstairs and into the office and kissed her senseless. He had felt dizzy with his lips pressed to hers, her hands running through his hair and her tongue darting in and out of his mouth, hungrily. He knew she wanted him. She wanted him more than he could ever express with words, but when she pulled away, he knew it was over. He knew she was going to go back to being that Pam. The Pam that cared about doing things conventionally and conservatively. The Pam who wouldn't leave her fiancé for him, even if her fiancé was horrible for her and to her. She wouldn't leave him. He should have known.

He'd left her then. Walked out of her life, got into his car, and drove sixty down the residential neighborhoods until he got home. He didn't care that he was breaking the law by driving that fast. At that point, all he wanted to do was crash. Crash into a tree. Crash into another car. It didn't matter. What was the point of living if she didn't want him back? He thought about turning the wheel hard right and taking down a tree and begging for his life in a hospital bed, but he couldn't do it. And since no tree jumped out at him, he parked his car angrily in the driveway and stormed inside the house.

Mark had gone home for the weekend, leaving Jim a deserted house, stocked up with all of the alcohol he could dare to drink. He went straight for the fridge, opened it up and pulled out two beers, ready to gulp them simultaneously. He scowled as he looked at them. Pam had blamed the kiss on them being drunk. He wasn't drunk. She certainly wasn't drunk. But if that's what she thought, then hell, he was going to be drunk tonight. Might as well have a reason to explain away his actions.

Most nights, five drinks would be enough to send him over the rooftops drunk. His words would be slurring and the ceiling would spin and everything around him would make him feel so dizzy and make him lose track of where he was. But tonight, five drinks passed and he was sober as he could be. Her cursed the heavens for allowing this to happen. Why was it that when he was drinking for fun, he couldn't stay sober, but when he was drinking to get drunk, sober was the only word in his vocabulary.He'd heard the knock then. Even when the door was closed, he knew she stood on the other side. He trudged over to it, debating whether or not he should leave her there, standing outside in the chilly air that was only characteristic of late night-early mornings. He wanted her to feel the pain of something, anything at that moment. Just so long as she could feel the piercing pain he'd felt when she'd blamed it on the alcohol that wasn't even consumed. He wanted her to feel so much pain, and yet, he couldn't wish it on her in years.

He opened the door only because he knew it might be the last time he'd ever see her smile.

_Even the best fall down __sometimes  
__Even the wrong words seem to rhyme  
__Out of the doubt that fills my mind  
__I somehow find__You and I collide_

When he'd opened the door, he'd felt a force pushing him into the house, the chilly air biting at his skin as the door was left swinging in the breeze. His body crashed over the sofa that sat in the living room, and her entire body was on top of him, her hands roaming down his sides, her kisses frenzied. She was kissing him, but she wasn't. She was more biting on his lip, biting hard, as if she wanted to bite all the way through it.

Her body was pushed up against him, and he could feel his erection pulsing, pushing, trying to escape the confinements of his zipper. Her nails scratched against his face, and he opened his mouth to say something, but she put her hand over it and pushed down, leaned into him and whispered forcefully into his ear, "Shut. Up." And he did.

Her hand quickly snaked its way down his chest until it rested over his zipper, and he could feel his embarrassment as she pressed down against his hardened cock, grinning wickedly at him. He gulped, unsure of what to think about this woman that had burst into his house and was now pinning him down to his living room sofa.

She quickly yanked the zipper down, not caring about the pain it inflicted as it ran jaggedly against him, and she reached her hand inside his pants and squeezed him hard, sending what felt like needles shooting through his legs and back. She yanked his pants down, boxers and all, leaving him on his couch, exposed to her, and then she grinned. It wasn't a light grin, or a grin of pleasure, but almost an evil grin. The kind of grin you saw when somebody was about to do something they secretly had wanted to do but was so evil and wrong they'd never told anyone they wanted to do it.

She leaned down and took hold of him, stroking him firmly with her fingers, drumming on him and pressing her nails lightly into him. Pain and pleasure seemed to swirl together, and all he could do was gasp, but when he did, she shot him a look that told him he wasn't to make a sound. Not a single sound. When she looked back down and focused herself on what she'd been doing originally, he watched as she lowered her mouth to him, engulfing his entire cock into it and pulling back and forth with her lips, her teeth grazing him softly as her fingers met her lips and pulled and pushed following her lips. He arched his back and he knew he was about to let it all out. He tried to pull himself out, knowing what was coming, but whenever he tried she pulled on him tighter, as if it was her way of telling him she wasn't going anywhere.

Trying to stay silent as his body flew miles over the edge and reached an euphoria he hadn't felt before was difficult. His hands gripped the couch cushions as her lips and fingers and teeth slid on top of him, and even after he'd cummed into her mouth, she kept at it, pulling more and more out of him. She pulled her mouth off of him after a moment, and when she looked up at him, her eyes twinkled before she spit all of his cum back onto his t-shirt, grinning as she licked his lips.

He stared at her in wonder, completely flabbergasted by this woman in front of him who had thrown herself at him so violently. She pulled his shirt off of him and straddled his hips, completely aware that he was lying naked on the couch with the door wide open, but not caring at all. The silk of her dress felt so good on top of his already throbbing penis, and even as she leaned up to kiss him, he could feel her dress getting wetter from his own arousal. Every inch she moved up his body sent him flying, and when she leaned down and ran her fingers over his chest, her lips finding his neck and nibbling on it, he could hardly contain the urge to rip all of her clothes off and take her right there.

She got up off of him at that point and walked around the couch and over to him, and he knew from the moment she got up she wanted him to stay where he was, naked and exposed to the world by the wide open door. She leaned down and whispered in his ear, seductively, "Go close the door." He obeyed, getting up and walking to the door, realizing that not many people were passing by at that time at night, and yet, still he was afraid he might be seen by someone. He closed the door and turned to face her, but when he did, he was shocked by what he saw.

She stood in front of him, completely naked. Her dress had been stripped off her body while he walked toward the door, and it lay discarded next to her feet, her bra on top of it. The only thing that hadn't been let go was her hair, and he knew when she did let go of the clips holding it up, an orgasm might fall over him at just the sight of her. She took a few steps closer to him, and he was amazed at the command and confidence she had in her own body.

He'd never seen a woman so beautiful, so sexy, so amazing. Her breasts were round and firm, the perfect size and weight. Her stomach flat, her legs glistened with her own wetness. She reached up, her eyes devouring him, and undid each clip in her hair, slowly, gracefully, pausing between each as a small strand of curls fell beside her cheeks. When she'd gotten all of the clips out, she leaned her head back and shook her hair, the curls loosening and her breasts jiggling, and soft, angry laughter escaped her voice.

She stood in front of him and looked him up and down, and he could tell she was trying to take in all of him, as if she had just seen him for the first time and they hadn't had the short little welcome when she'd walked in the door. She raised her eyebrows and made a motion with her finger that easily said come hither, and turned and walked up the stairs and into his room, his feet following hers and his eyes unable to detach from her.

She walked straight over to the bed and submissively laid down, waiting for him to come command her. When he came closer, she smiled up at him, bringing her lips to his ears and whispered softly "Do what you want with me." His eyes went wide at the seduction that was in her voice as he climbed on top of her, dragging himself over every part of her body, kissing her lips, her chest, sucking on her nipples. He lifted her legs in the air and moved his mouth to the inside of them, sucking on her clit, first lightly, then harder and harder until he could feel it becoming hard inside his mouth. He grazed his teeth against her core just as she was about to reach the edge and quickly moved down to her opening, sticking his tongue inside, darting it in and out as he tasted her.

Her hips were thrusting softly and her back was arched, and he could see the tightness of the sheets as she clutched them in her hands, pulling at them hard. He smiled and licked a trail back up to her and kissed her softly, smiling. He slipped his cock into her slowly, his eyes staring into hers, burning the pupils of hers with the intensity in his.

As he thrusted inside of her, slowly, then faster and faster, the muscles contracted around his already pulsing penis, sending him over the edge. He kept looking in her eyes, watching as the pleasure overcame her, and just as they were about to hit the edge, she spit words out at him, "scream for me, Jim."

Her eyes bore into him as he screamed out her name, over and over again, feeling himself release inside her in such a way that he had never felt so completely surrounded. She squirmed under his touch, screaming his name out herself, and when they both relaxed back into the normal state of affairs, she continued to look into his eyes, but he couldn't read her expression.

Her eyes told him to save the questioning for the morning, and before he had the chance to disobey, her eyes closed and she snuggled into his embrace, and they fell asleep wrapped in each other's arms.

_I'm quiet you know  
__You__ make a f__i__r__st impression  
__I've found I'm scared to know I'm always on your mind_

She could feel herself wakening abruptly, but before she opened her eyes, she could feel arms wrapped around her body. They were different than they normally were, protective, maybe. She could smell someone else's scent. The aroma of cigars and beer wasn't invading her bedroom this morning, this smell was different, a smell of pure cotton and a body odor that was surprisingly sweet. And that's when she remembered where she was. Whose chest her face was buried into. What she'd done last night. The memories of him touching her, of feeling him inside her, of how she treated him came flooding back and overwhelmed her, and she could almost taste the butterflies in her stomach.

The image of the two of them, standing on the sidewalk came back clearly to her, and her heart ached. She heard his words so clearly they'd made her entire body feel numb. "I'm in love with you," he'd said, plain as day. She'd fought it for so many years, claiming that it wasn't as he'd so obviously showed her, but when he said it… When he looked into her eyes and said it, she'd known. It was real that time. It was so real. And she had no idea what to do.

She thought back to the day they'd met. She'd been sitting at reception, drinking some water from her Zephyrhills bottle, and he'd walked up to her, strummed his fingers on her desk, and started talking in a way that made him seem so oddly familiar. His smile had made her go weak at the knees, and for weeks she'd scolded herself for the effect he had on her. She'd gone home that night unable to get him off her mind, and even when she and Roy had made sex that night, it had been his face she'd seen when she'd closed her eyes and reached her climax. She'd pushed it to the back of her mind, knowing how horrible that was.

When he'd told her he was in love with her, her body had trembled with fear. Those words had seemed so impossible. She would never have expected him to come out and say it to her, especially with her planning a wedding only three weeks away. But he had. He'd told her, and it had shaken her very core. The idea that she might have to move, change, break away and do something different because of his revelation terrified her. The fact that every time he thought, she was the center, nearly killed her with excitement and intense trepidation.

_Even the best fall down __sometimes  
__Even the stars refuse to shine  
__Out of the back you fall in time  
__I somehow find  
__You and I collide_

Her mind raced as she remembered what she'd done last night, but it raced even quicker when she remembered what she hadn't done. She hadn't gone home to Roy. She hadn't called Roy. She hadn't done anything concerning Roy. She'd just driven straight over to Jim's house, pushed him on the couch, and made love to him until she could hardly breathe. And she hadn't told him.

She hadn't called off her wedding.

She was that girl. That girl that was going to have to go to her fiancé and tell him that she'd slept with someone else. She'd cheated on him. She was that girl that was going to be looked at with so much disgust. She was the girl that his entire family would hate; the girl that her own family would hate for wasting thousands of dollars on an easy lay. She was that girl that was immoral; the one that would have to wear a scarlet letter over her heart for so many years. The one that would beg for forgiveness.

Or was she?

She scrunched her eyes together, knowing that the moment she opened them she would be hit by the reality of the situation. She wasn't that girl. She was the girl that was going to go home to Roy, tell him that she was in love with someone else, and leave him be. She wasn't going to beg for forgiveness. She wasn't going to tell him anymore than he asked; she was just going to tell him she wasn't in love with him. It was the truth, wasn't it?

She knew it was. And as much as she hated to admit that the last ten years had been a waste, and that her life was falling apart in front of her eyes, she knew it was the truth. She was going to let go of her security blanket, and it pained her, and it scared her to death to be starting over, but she had to. She had to be transported back to her seventeen year old self and find out who she was without Roy Anderson. Who she really was, not who he wanted her to be. And it scared her to know she had to do so.

She didn't open her eyes, but she took a small whiff of Jim's aroma and she was suddenly sure of herself. Even if her life was falling apart and she was down on the ground, bruises over her knees and her heart, she would be okay. And even if she was broken to the point of no return, she knew that the answer was in her and Jim.

_Even the best fall down sometimes  
__Even__ the wrong words seem to r__h__y__me  
__Out of the doubt that fills your mind  
__You finally find  
__You and I collide_

Her eyes opened and she kissed his chest softly, her eyelashes fluttering against his chest. He turned to look at her and she looked up at him, a soft smile on her lips, tears threatening to form in her eyes. His face fell as he saw the tears, and she couldn't do anything to stop them from falling. All she could do was stare at him, but he didn't say a word.

"Hi," she said softly, unsure of whether sound would even come. It did.

"Hey," he said, reaching up to wipe a tear away from her cheek. She stared at him for a long time, watching his face, trying to figure out what she should say next.

"I have to go," she stated softly, and she could see the sadness fill his eyes, his heart breaking.

"Roy." He stated.

"No… Well, yes… Kind of," she said, and he stared at her for a moment, both urging her to go on and condemning her if she did. "I never went home last night."

"Obviously," he said bitterly, and loosened his hold on her.

"Jim," she said softly, reaching up to touch his face. "I can't just lie in bed with you all day. I need to go talk to him."

"Talk to him?" The anger in Jim's voice was rising, and she couldn't believe everything was coming out the way it had. "What do you think, Pam? You think you can just come over here, fuck me and then go back to him?" He looked away from her, and she could see his face turning red as the anger was taking over his body, and she knew he was looking away for fear that the next thing he said might kill her.

"No." She said firmly, and he looked at her. She put her hands on his cheeks and spoke at him directly, firmly. "No. I need to go tell him I'm not in love with him."

"Oh you're not?" he said, as if it was the most ridiculous thing in the world.

"Jim, I know it might seem like I am… You can't be engaged to a man you're not in love with, right? It's just... I didn't realize it when I was planning the wedding and ordering this and sending out invitations, but the wedding I was planning wasn't with Roy… It was with you. I'm in love with you, and that never even crossed my mind as being a possibility until you said it and it hit me… In one of those odd ways where everything all of a sudden makes sense and the room is spinning and you're already so dizzy that the combination of the two almost makes the view seem normal and clear…"

He nodded for a moment. "So, what are you saying? Where are we going from here?"

She smiled and kissed him lightly, easing her way out of his embrace and off the bed. "I'm going to go break up with my fiancé. I'm going to go apartment hunting today, maybe there will be something closer to you. Then tonight I'm going to come back here, and I'm going to kiss you." She made her way closer to him and leaned down and kissed him softly. "And tell you how deeply in love with you I am."

"Why can't you do that now?" He asked, his voice shaking.

"Because it's wrong…" she said softly. "I know it's right for us, but it's wrong… And I want us to be as perfect about this as we can. I don't want to look back and know that I told you about my feelings while still engaged. I want this to be a fresh start for us."

"Okay," he said softly, and watched her slip out the door, and his heart sank. His mind urged him, telling him to run after her, that maybe she'd chicken out if he didn't go with her, but for some reason, even through the lies and doubt, he knew she'd be back.

_You finally find  
__You__ and I collide  
__You finally find  
__You and I collide_

The day moved by so slowly. It was all he could do to keep his mind off her, wondering if she'd ever come back to him or if it was just a fluke. He'd cleaned the entire house, mowed the lawn, played basketball, went for three runs, and yet he still had no idea where she was. He'd cooked dinner for the two of them, hoping by some miracle she'd smell it wherever she was and come back to him. Come home to him.

It was nine-thirty when he decided to retire to bed, wondering how long it would take him to fall asleep. He was just climbing the stairs when he heard the knock at the door. He went to it quickly, afraid that it might be Roy, and equally afraid that it might be Pam.

He opened the door, and she stood there, her face wet with tears, her jeans and t-shirt ruffled from what he assumed had been a full-fledged cry. She shrugged in a helpless way and jumped into his arms, tightening her grip around his neck as he held her, aware that she wasn't going to be letting go anytime soon. She melted into him as he held her, and for the life in him, he couldn't explain why it felt so good to have her body against his, to surround her with him.

Her hand was resting on the back of his head, smoothing his hair and patting it down against his head. Her chin was resting on his shoulder, and he knew he was slightly lifting her off the ground, but he didn't care. And that's when he heard her voice, soft and quiet coming in a whisper, yet it was loud in his ear.

"I love you so much," she said softly, sobs breaking her words apart, but when she pulled back, he noticed she was smiling. Smiling the way he loved to see her smiling, as if nothing that happened could ever wipe the smile off her face. "I know I'm late, but I decided to go apartment hunting first… I figured I wouldn't be in the mood afterwards, and I couldn't get in touch with Roy anyway… I searched for him for a good two hours before I found him at a bar about an hour away around seven. I told him, and I've never felt better, Jim." She ran into his arms and hugged him tightly again, kissing his cheek over and over again. "Thank you," she said softly, "Thank you… Thank you."

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Reviews make me happy! 


	7. 1 2 3 4

The song is 1 2 3 4 by Feist. It's the song on Jenna's myspace page, as well as the song in that wonderful new iPod commercial. And I just love it!!!!_

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_one, two, three, four,  
tell me that you love me more.  
sleepless, long nights.  
that was what my youth was for.  
oh, teenage hopes arrive at your door  
left you with nothing, but they want some more_

Pam looked over at the left-side of the bed, her fingers lazily running down Roy's arm. He was asleep, like he normally was at three A.M. Like anyone normally was at three A.M. It had been so long since they'd started their relationship. They say time takes a toll on all relationships, and Pam knew it was true. Even though nothing had really changed since they started dating at 15, it seemed like everything had at the same time.

The normal timeframe for relationships ceased to exist between the two of them. With most couples, ten years brought about the change of engagement and marriage, and oftentimes, children. With them, it had just brought an engagement that was more for namesakes than anything else. Sometimes, Pam wondered if it was the word 'engaged' that made her feel better about her relationship to Roy. She felt less like a 'Dear Abby' case with the 'engaged' stamp to her forehead.

Their relationship hadn't used to be as monotone as it was now. There was a time when Roy came home at night, surprised her with a rose, or did the dishes in the morning before he left for work. There was a day when foreplay was actually important, and it was an all-day thing, not just the two seconds before he "needed" her. There was a time when all she had to do was hold his hand to feel his love.

They'd met in Spanish her sophomore year. He was the typical high school jock—crude jokes, pranks on the teacher, miserably failing Spanish. His parents, however, were big on his making good grades, so they'd made him arrange for a tutor after school one day a week. He'd asked her to be his tutor, knowing she was the goody two-shoes. She'd accepted because it was money, and they'd started dating soon after.

At first, dating Roy had been a thrill. He'd taken her to the fair, dancing under the stars, to the movies and had been the first boy she'd stayed out all night with. He held her hand while he walked her to her locker, carrying her books for her. He let her wear his varsity jacket when he made varsity, and when dances came around, he made no qualms about asking her. It was what she'd always assumed the 'high school sweetheart' relationships were like. Late nights at fast-food places feeding each other French fries, dressing up and getting drunk before "the best night of their lives", and that love that everyone said wouldn't work that lasted until the day they died.

When she followed him to college, her parents had thought she was crazy. Her father had warned her against "that type of boy," but he had always been sweet with her. He'd always been amazing. She could hardly speak at night, thinking of some of the things he did for her. They would stay up through the night on the phone, talking incessantly. She'd twirl the phone cord around her finger and laugh heartily, and he'd smile into the phone, running his free hand through his hair. At the end, they'd both refuse to hang up first, leading to fights about who loved who more, and eventually, they'd both just fall asleep to the sound of the other's breathing.

Even their first time having sex had been the high school sweetheart way. Parked on a dark and deserted road, no condoms or birth control pills anywhere near, it started as simply a make out session and quickly escalated into more, neither of them worrying about what the future might hold.

And then, her second or third year in college, it had started to go sour. He'd gotten a job, and she was still at college, her days being free and her nights always busy. He was always the other way around. Slowly, they started hanging out less and less, talking less and less. Finally, it became almost a roommate type of situation, with benefits.

And even now, after those years had passed and they'd been working together for four years, it still kind of felt that way. They spent more time together now. They'd come home from work, she'd make dinner and do the dishes, he'd grab a beer and watch some television. She missed the old days; he didn't seem to care. And every night, when they crawled in bed, she hardly even got an "I love you," let alone an "I love you more."

_oh__, oh, oh, __you're changing your heart.  
__oh__, oh, oh, __you know who you are.  
__sweetheart __bitterheart __now __i__ can't tell you apart.  
__cozy__ and cold, __put the horse before the cart.  
__those__ teenage hopes, __who have tears in their eyes.  
__too__ scared to own up __to one little lie._

At the beginning, he'd been interested in her. There was a time when he'd encouraged her to pursue all of her goals and dreams. He used to be her biggest fan. She remembered specifically a time in her junior year. Her entire class had been competing for a shot to be published in one of the local art magazines. Being published wasn't a huge thing seeing as they lived in Scranton, but just the idea of being published thrilled Pam. She'd spent days trying to find the perfect piece, and once she had, she knew the work to create it was going to be ridiculously hard.

The day before it was due, she'd called Roy right after dinner to tell him to go to bed without her call that night. She'd had so much work to do to complete the project, she wasn't even sure she'd get it all done, even if she did pull an all-nighter. It hadn't been fifteen minutes before he'd come into her room, asked her what he could do. He'd changed her water every thirty minutes, went to the store to get new brushes or more paint, mixed the colors that she needed for her. They'd finished quicker than she'd expected, and yet, they'd still worked until almost two AM that night. He fell asleep on her bed, and she remembered looking at him, wondering how she'd ever been so lucky to have him.

The next morning, she'd thanked him, and he'd shrugged it off, told her it was nothing. To her, it had been everything. And then, a few weeks later when her art was pushed aside for a piece that had no creativity or originality (in her mind), he'd been upset, told her how amazing she was. He'd convinced her to keep trying, and so she had. It was things like that—when he supported her regardless of the outcomes—which made her fall in love with him. Made her so sure that this love was right and perfect.

Slowly, over time, though, that had vanished. As she'd been turned down for various art schools, her pieces would end up in the recycled bin at the schools she attended, and with them, his desire for her to do well and her belief that she could. Through the years, he attended less art shows, he bought her less supplies, and the more she talked about art, the less he talked back. Today, they'd had their worst fight yet. He'd simply told her to give up on her art. It wasn't working out. It never would. They could spend their money on something else.

She'd been devastated. The one part of him she'd always loved, the part that had been different from every other man had slowly, but swiftly faded into the parts that reminded her of every chauvinistic pig she'd ever met. The sweet things he did had become less sweet and occasional, the cruel things he did had intensified and become the norm until finally, when she looked at him, she wasn't sure what she'd ever seen that was 'sweet' about him.

She felt their relationship slipping. She felt the fear that everyone had instilled in her coming true. She knew their relationship was hanging on by threads; she knew it wouldn't last, and she knew she could have one that would with someone else, but she was too scared to let go.

_oh__, oh, oh,  
__you're__ changing your heart.  
__oh__, oh, oh, __you know who you are.  
__one__, two, three, four, five, six, nine, and ten.  
__money__ can't buy you back the love that you had then.  
__one__, two, three, four, five, six, nine, and ten.  
__money__ can't buy you back the love that you had then._

She longed for the days back at the beginning of their relationship. His sweatshirts on her body. Roses in her hair. Hand hugging. Laying in the grass and having picnics. Being picked over everyone else. Being called beautiful, amazing, the woman of his dreams. Gazing into each other's eyes. She missed those aspects of her relationship. She'd give anything to have them back, and yet, here she was, sleeping next to a fiance who didn't love her the way she deserved or wanted. She couldn't live like that. She wouldn't live like that.

_oh__, oh, oh, __you're changing your heart.  
__oh__, oh, oh, __you know who you are.  
__oh__, oh, oh, __you're changing your heart._

The more she thought about it, the more she realized that the things she found in Roy at the beginning of their relationship were not really Roy at all but more her take on what Roy should be. Suddenly, the memories of those times came back and she could see various eye-rolls or mean-spirited comments that associated each of them. The ten year relationship she'd invested so much of herself in had become less of a relationship, and more of a her doing things for Roy because she loved him.

Her heart was slowly moving away from Roy's. It wasn't moving toward anywhere other than herself. It was as if her heart was physically walking and jumping back inside her body after being held in Roy's hands for so long. She could almost envision herself giving it out again. But then again, part of her knew she already had.

_oh__, oh, oh, __you know who you are.  
__bada __bada __bada __bada  
__bada __bada __bada __bada __bada__   
__the teenage boys, __for breaking your heart  
.__for__ the teenage boys, __for breaking your heart._

Three years after she broke off her relationship with Roy, she lay in bed with the new man of her dreams. One that actually said all of those things teenage dreams are made of. The one that actually held her hand without grimacing, told her she was beautiful, and embraced her, even when she failed. They'd had a long conversation about past relationships that day, and he'd made it clear how he felt about Roy. She was sure he'd never felt comfortable with Roy anyway, but as soon as she'd brought him up, Jim's face had fallen as he'd taken in the idea that Roy had actually had her heart in the beginning. He seemed to have just realized that in order to break someone's heart, you have to have their heart. He'd cursed Roy in his own head for several minutes, and although no words were spoken out loud, Pam could hear him loud enough. It almost made her smile, how completely against Roy he was. It made her feel Jim's love in a new way when she truly understood how much he despised anything that hurt her.

Pam looked over at the left-side of the bed, her fingers lazily running down Jim's arm. He was asleep, like he normally was at three A.M. Like anyone normally was at three A.M. She smiled against his shoulder sleepily and leaned into his ear and whispered softly, "I love you more."

She could feel him stir against her, and she had nearly drifted off to sleep when she felt his lips break the silence of the room as he muttered softly, almost imperceptibly, "Not uh. I love you more."

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